Сыновья уходят в бой [Synov'ja uhodjat v boj] [English translation]

Today you would not hear the heartbeats abreast,

This stuff is for alleys and gardens.

I’m falling, I’m snatching hot lead with my chest,

With one final thought before dying:

From this ordeal there’s no returning,

I now depart, the help’s in sight.

It happened fast, before we know it, before we know it…

And our sons, and our sons depart to fight.

There someone decides: “After us comes the flood”.

And steps from the trench to start fighting.

And I have abandoned my foxhole behind,

Intended to stop all that flooding1.

But now my eyelids are too heavy,

I will embrace with earth tonight.

It happened fast, before we know it, before we know it…

And our sons, and our sons depart to fight.

I eager to know who will come in my place,

And who will attack the key bridgehead?

And my final wish: “Let it be that sharp lad,

Whose tunic is large and ill-fitted.

Yet I will smile at the last minute:

I saw the one who’s to my right.

It happened fast, before we know it, before we know it…

And our sons, and our sons depart to fight.

Explosions were muffling the beating of hearts,

But mine kept me telling while pumping:

That my own departure is not the last act,

The end’s the beginning of something.

But now my eyelids are too heavy,

I will embrace with earth tonight.

It happened fast, before we know it, before we know it…

And our sons, and our sons depart to fight.

1. allegorical: Nazi flood